


Alone Among the Wreck

by Christabel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: (sort of for the last two), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Guilt, Hand Jobs, Lots of sniping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christabel/pseuds/Christabel
Summary: “You don’t have to trust me,” Kent said, “you just have to let me do this.”
Jack has spent many years away from his father's court. Now he must return to wed Kent Parson at last, with all those years and hurts between them.It's not pretty.





	

Jack could still hear the music from the wedding festivities drifting over the lake with the breeze the ruffled the curtains, but inside his bedroom, all was silent. Kent hadn’t spoken a word as the priests walked them to Jack’s - no, _their_ \- rooms. Now, he pushed Jack towards the bed, spilling him over onto the blanket, and Jack’s gasp was the first noise to break their silence.

He could remember other times Kent had pushed him down, sank teeth into the back of his shoulder or hot kisses into the crook of his neck, eased questing fingers inside Jack and pushed in with stifled grunts- but that had been _before_. And tonight would not be like that.

Kent held Jack’s eyes as he unlaced the over-complicated doublet, sapphires flashing on his fingers. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, and he swallowed them down dry. “Shhh,” Kent said, and threw the doublet aside. Jack leaned back into the pillows, instinctively listening, and Kent pulled off his shirt, leaving his hair ruffled. His clothes were disappearing so fast, leaving long swathes of sun-golden skin bare in the candlelight, and Jack stared.

He had never seen so much skin, before. Always their moments had been stolen, falling into a pattern: heated kisses, Jack pushed into the nearest available room, turned, his trousers hanging loose around his knees. Rough wool against his bare ass, Kent barely undressing at all. Those few minutes always felt like being trampled by a herd of horses, and Jack had loved it, then, though he knew he shouldn’t. Kent was to be his consort, was Jack’s to command, even during the long years of their engagement.

The only command Jack had ever given him was to stay behind when Jack left.

This time, when Kent unfastened his trousers, he pushed everything down, stepping out of the pooling fabric like a naiad out of the lake. He planted one knee on the bed, then the other, crawling until he was straddling Jack. Kent hooked a finger under Jack’s chin, his flint-colored eyes unreadable. “Stop thinking,” he growled, and leaned in to kiss Jack.

There it was, that feeling, like the world was speeding out from under his feet. Kent’s tongue parted his lips, explored Jack’s mouth like a man taking possession of a castle. Jack let years-old instinct take over. He had stalled for long enough, staying with his mother’s family. There was no avoiding his fate anymore: not his place as heir and not the consort promised to him when they were both fourteen. Jack let himself drown in Kent.

Nimble fingers worked at his clothing, stripping it off piece by piece. Jack almost stopped Kent at his trousers, but in the end, it was easier to let Kent do it. He lifted his arms, his hips, when needed, and shivered as air caressed the uncovered skin. Kent pulled away from his mouth at some point, not very long after Jack was fully naked. There was a soft clunk as something hit the floor, and Jack stared hazily over the side of the bed, trying to place this object, tapered and dark. Kent whispered, “Ready?”

“For…?” Jack asked, but the question was answered before he was done asking it. Kent’s hand wrapped around his dick, lining him up against something that gave against the head of his cock, and then heat engulfed him. Jack gasped, grabbing onto Kent’s shoulders, as Kent sank down, inch by tight inch.

“For that,” Kent said, with a catlike smile Jack still knew well, after these years apart. Kent ran a fingernail down the center of Jack’s chest, and Jack shivered. “This is what it felt like for me, you know. The first time I bent you over that desk.” His hand spread out, pressing against Jack’s chest, pinning him to the bed.

Jack’s mind was whirling into nothing. Kent’s body contracted around his cock, all heat and slick and far-too-real flesh. He wasn’t sure if the way his breath heaved in his chest was anxiety or desire, or perhaps a potent mix of both, leaving him untethered. He had felt this way that first time, too, but he had given in to the loss of control, letting the pleasure drag him out of his mind entirely. He didn’t know if he could let go like that now.

“I trusted you then,” he blurted.

Kent’s face twisted, and he pushed himself up and crashed back down into the cradle of Jack’s hips. Jack clutched at his waist, letting out a broken groan. “You don’t have to trust me,” Kent said, “you just have to let me do this.” He moved again, this time in a long, slow slide that left Jack panting, all too aware of Kent stretching around him.

Had Kent ever done this? Jack wondered. Perhaps, in the years they were apart. Jack almost hoped he had, disgrace or no. He wondered how Kent had come to him so ready, and had to muffle a groan at the image of him fingering himself open as he’d done to Jack so many times.

“Don’t,” Kent said, panting. His face was flushed, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “Don’t be _quiet_. We had years of being quiet.” His hips pumped faster, and Jack groaned, long and low, lost now in the heat of Kent. He grabbed onto Kent, digging a heel into the mattress as thrust upwards on Kent’s next thrust down, and they moaned nearly in unison. Kent leaned down, winding a hand into Jack’s hair, and there was something so familiar and heart-rending in his expression that Jack had to kiss him to stop himself seeing it.

Kent broke away quickly, though, arm wrapping around the back of Jack’s shoulders. He gasped brokenly into Jack’s neck and whispered, “Come on, come on, Jack, for me.” His hips ground against Jack’s, a sinuous twist that rubbed the head of Jack’s cock against Kent’s inner walls. He repeated the move, a second, a third time, and Jack groaned a _please_. Kent’s next move, one long, beautiful thrust, made Jack shout with relief.

Kent pushed himself upright again, setting into a hard, fast, rhythm, and Jack was unwinding quickly. Kent’s lip twisted, and he moved yet faster, eyes sharp on Jack’s. It was this that finally undid Jack, Kent’s determination and nothing more. Jack caught Kent’s hips again, pulling him hard against his body as his orgasm began to roll over him.

When Jack could see straight again, his eyes traveled down the flat plane of Kent’s stomach to his cock, still hard and leaking. “Let me,” he said. Kent shifted and Jack winced. “No- stay,” he said, and Kent settled onto his hips, giving him a flat look. It was a look that said, _Impress me,_ with a side of _I bet you can’t_. Soft and undone as he still was, this look cut Jack to his core.

“Do you _want_ to deal with this on your own?” Jack asked, his confusion leaking into his voice.

“No. Fine. _Deal_ with it,” Kent said. He reached out for Jack’s hand, pressing it against his cock. “Go ahead.”

Jack wrapped his hand around Kent, feeling the give of his skin as he tugged at the head of Kent’s cock. Kent closed his eyes, his eyelashes flickering against his cheeks, and Jack thought, _Oh._ He knew, or he’d once known, how Kent hated being vulnerable. And Jack...Jack knew he had hurt Kent.

His near-death had been bad enough, Jack finally falling on the far side of enough with the tonics the herbalists sold down in the village. But then he had left. It had been a clean break for Jack, leaving every responsibility that had nearly crushed him behind. At his mother’s family’s estate, he could be just another son of the family, letting the quietness of country life rub out some of his rough edges. Jack had known Kent would argue with him the whole way, reminding him of what he should be, so he’d left Kent, too.

He couldn’t apologize now. He didn’t even know how much of it he wanted to apologize _for._ Jack merely firmed his grip, tugging Kent off in quick strokes, knowing from the sound of his breaths how close he was. He reached down to cup Kent’s balls, then trace a finger around the rim of his hole, still tight around Jack. Kent’s breath hitched, and Jack dragged his finger forward, over the skin behind Kent’s balls.

“ _Shit,_ ” Kent said, jerking against Jack, and then he was spilling over Jack’s fist. He stayed there, eyes closed, panting, for some thirty seconds, and then his eyes opened abruptly. He reached under himself, holding onto the base of Jack’s cock as he pulled off him. Jack winced at the drag of it. The bed dipped, and Jack opened his eyes to see Kent starting for the door, still naked.

“Kent?” he asked.

“Not a word,” Kent said, and there was a flame curling under the words. Jack lay back, startled. Kent opened the door and stepped out into the hallway with the priests. One circled around him as Jack watched, mystified. The priests seemed to confer a moment, then the priest behind Kent reached between his legs, hand obscured by the wide sleeve of his robe. Kent stiffened, biting his lip, and then the priest stepped away, holding two fingers up to show the other. They glinted, slick and milky-colored, in the light of the torches.

Jack pushed himself up, ready to put a stop to this, but Kent’s eyes stopped him. They were cold, sarcastic, the silent equivalent of _What did you expect?_

The priests spoke again, and then the one who had touched Kent put a hand on his shoulder, steering Kent back inside the bedroom. The door shut with a clunk.

“What did they do?” Jack asked, his stomach churning.

“You left me behind,” Kent said, clenching his fists and starting for Jack. He grabbed Jack’s shoulders, pulling him up so he could snarl into his face. “You _left me behind_ and the court feared for the alliance. I’m no maid; they couldn’t check the sheets for blood to be sure you had performed your end of the deal.”

Jack stared into Kent’s face, reaching up to curl one hand around his wrist. “So they…” he said, horrified.

“Yes. They checked. And just to make things even easier for you, they took me aside, your priests, before the wedding, and they made sure I was all prepared to please you in bed.” Kent’s lips curled, but his eyes were ice. “Do you know how much fun it is to have strange men’s fingers shoved up inside you?” Jack tried to pull away, but Kent held him tight. “Or how about this one...dancing your first dance with your lord with a plug in your ass to keep you nice and open for later?” His fingers, Jack could feel, were shaking against Jack’s shoulders as they released him.

“I didn’t- If I’d _known they were_ -” Jack managed.

“Don’t pretend this isn’t your fault,” Kent said.

“But Father wouldn’t-” Jack protested.

“Do you really think he knows?” Kent shook his head. “So naive. There are other powers at court that want to see this alliance come off, and they line the priests’ pockets. _You_ left me alone with people who were not my people. _You_ left me at their mercy.”

“I thought they liked you,” Jack said, his voice a whisper, searching Kent’s face for a hint of the other troubles he must have faced.

“They loved _you,_ ” Kent said, his voice flat. “You were the only person who liked me. And then it turned out you didn’t, either.”

Jack was silent, swallowing against the guilt and self-hatred that bubbled up from the pit of his stomach. “I thought it was for the best,” he said.

“You were wrong,” Kent said, his words like barbs. “But then, you never have been the decision-maker your father is.”

Jack recoiled, and Kent turned away, climbing into the bed. He curled up on his side, his back to Jack, and tugged the sheets up. They twisted around him, leaving a glimpse of sharp hip bare, and the tense line of his shoulders. “I’m going to sleep,” he said. “Wake me if you want to fuck. That’s all I’ve ever been good for, right?” He tugged the sheet over his head, clearly not interested in an answer.

Jack didn’t give him one, getting up to begin dressing.

It was time to become his father’s son again. Act one: find out who had bribed the priests, and teach them that Kent was off-limits.


End file.
